


In the Interstices (Where We Hide)

by FlyingPigPoet



Series: There Oughta Be a Superhero Handbook [7]
Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/F, F/M, how Vasquez starts thinking about Alex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-27
Updated: 2017-06-27
Packaged: 2018-11-19 13:49:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 6,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11314695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlyingPigPoet/pseuds/FlyingPigPoet
Summary: Episode 1.17, Manhunter, with lots of missing scenes and points of view.





	1. In the Night Season

Agent Susan Vasquez woke early that day, having dreamed of Supergirl wearing the Kryptonian uniform, her makeup very different, somehow making her seem... not older exactly. More mature? More sophisticated?

More sexually available?

Normally, Vasquez didn't give Supergirl much thought. Not personally anyway. Professionally, the Kryptonian was on Vasquez's mind several hours a day. But not at night. Given that Supergirl was the little sister of Vasquez's former trainee and current administrative superior, that badass born-DEO agent Alexandra Danvers, a woman who was beautiful, strong, stubborn, brave, brilliant, loyal, fearless, beautiful--

Yeah, so that was complicated enough. Add the little sister to the mix and well, suffice it to say that Susan Vasquez's expertise was extrapolating future threats from current (apparently neutral) situations and stimuli, so adding the little sister to the mix would just make for (technical strategic term) a mess.

Tell that to Vasquez's sleeping brain. She dreamed of the central zipper on Supergirl's catsuit. She dreamed of smooth Kryptonian skin under her own tanned hands. And them, because her brain did have a sense of self-preservation, she dreamed that her alarm was going off an hour before it was set to. She took that as a sign, rolled out of bed, did her pushups and crunches, put on her running gear and headed out into the cold desert morning, running from her desire like she hadn't run since she'd been a semi-closeted Marine.

She returned home still before sunrise to a hot shower, and sat in meditation the way she had learned in the military hospital in Germany. Pain management, libido management. Potayto, potahto.

By the time she reached the DEO and changed into her black tactical gear, and reported for duty at the command center, she was back in control of herself.

She missed seeing Hank standing with his arms crossed, waiting for his duty roster agents to show up. With a jolt, she remembered how Hank had turned into an alien to take down Supergirl long enough for Alex to shoot her with Maxwell Lord's rifle, free her of the red Kryptonite.

Her hands moved automatically to pull out the latest in a long line of Moleskine notebooks and a ballpoint pen, starting a new list.

HH--alien, what kind? how long?  
AD--didn't seem surprised; investigate (cams?)  
H--stayed, let self be taken; why?

Vasquez's eye was drawn to the surveillance camera in Henshaw's cell. She switched her earpiece to the room's audio. She watched Hank eating candy as Alex entered the outer part of his cell, looking worried. Not afraid. Worried.

Alex said, "You don't look so dangerous shoving Chocos in your face." She sat down on the edge of his cell.

"Mmm," he said. "How did you know they were my favorite?"

"You eat them at 3 a.m. Only a favorite will do at 3 a.m."

"You have to stop these visits."

"I like taking care of you for once."

"My mission as Hank Henshaw was to protect you."

"Missions change."

"Not this one. Which is why I'm telling you. You have to distance yourself. Don't check in on me, stop bringing me candy. Tell them you never knew about me, that I betrayed you."

"I would never say that." She stood up, started pacing.

"There has to be a reckoning, Alex. An alien lied, took command of a government organization. This doesn't lead to people getting fired or even thrown in prison. People get disappeared for this sort of thing. They're going to tear this place apart looking for whoever helped me."

"I'll lie. I will convince. I will do everything you taught me to do. But I am not abandoing you. This is rock bottom. I know what kind of person I'm going to be."

Vasquez was no expert, but it wasn't really all that hard to erase two minutes of video and audio and replace them with a short loop of Hank doing a lot of nothing and saying even more. Vasquez returned to her list.

Senator Crane folder--update her psych eval and possible rxns to this mess.

"Morning, Vasquez."

Vasquez dropped her pen and it rolled to stop in front of a pair of red boots. Supergirl bent to pick it up and hand it back. "Sorry, did I startle you?"

"Yeah, a bit. Nobody's here this early."

"Couldn't sleep."

"Me neither."

"How is Hank?"

Vasquez shrugged. She looked at the feeds again and muttered, "Oh, shit. Fuck. Fuck, we are so fucked!"

Supergirl stared. "Um, Vasquez?"

"Supergirl, you are going to want to leave by a secondary exit and maybe don't come back unless, until either Alex or I call you. I'm sorry, but-- Oh, God, this is going to be one hell of a mess. Go now, Supergirl!"

And she would have expected the other woman to have hesitated or asked questions, but she just strode off, cape swishing behind her.

Four minutes later, the rest of Vasquez's shift showed up. It was 0700 hours and she put them to work, deciding to tell them nothing of her forebodings or the preparations she had made in the very negative eventuality that she was right. So when Major Lane and Colonel Harper showed up with their toy soldiers, all of Vasquez's people looked convincingly surprised and innocent.

Vasquez gave her station to Sullivan, and hurried to the containment cells to get Alex.

"Ma'am? You're need to come out here right now!"


	2. In the Background

In Winn's estimation, Cat Grant was moving slower these days. Not physically, as often happened after a physical injury, when a person moved cautiously to avoid setting off spasms, and not mentally, as when one was tired or drunk, and simply couldn't keep up. More emotionally, as if she were considering the possible impact of her words on the people she spoke to, and not because she was calculating the maximum sting or burn. Quite the reverse.

It was uncanny, but he doubted it would last. Sure, Supergirl had thrown Cat over the balcony and she had fallen forty stories before the Kryptonian had deigned to catch her. Forty stories.

When Kara walked in at 7:58, carrying Cat's latte and mail, Winn noticed that she walked slower too, that she frowned, that the perpetually Sunny Danvers was hidden behind clouds. Well, no wonder. Forty stories. Nobody just bounces back after forty stories.

Kara went to her desk and immediately started working, answering Cat's emails, putting together her schedule for the day. She didn't say a word to Winn. It was like she didn't even see him. Maybe, he thought, she never had.

Cat came and took the latte and mail off Kara's desk. Kara didn't even see her. Cat opened her mouth, a snarky look on her face, then her mouth closed and she turned and went back to her office.

Winn had thought a number of times these last few months that the world was coming to an end, what with all the alien attacks and now Supergirl becoming murderous. Explosions. Death.

But then he remembered that old T.S. Eliot line, "This is the way the world ends, not with a bang but with a whimper."

And he clicked on a series of folders on his computer, sighing sadly. It was time to update his resume.


	3. In a Bind

Senator Crane returned to Washington, feeling deeply betrayed. she had been an International Relations grad student the year that Superman had rescued that plane and then made his "learning curve" mistakes, as the Daily Planet called them. She didn't know what was worse, that he was so strong, so powerful, or that he was impossibly good-looking and seemingly kind. But he terrified her. She had hoped to go into international law when she graduated. Instead, she ran for office. Unlike other candidates running on an anti-alien platform, she wasn't a white man or a right-wing Christian. As a woman of color, a Unitarian, running as a moderate Republican, she made voters feel safe. Her goal was to make them actually be safe.

She had never actually felt safe herself, not as long as she could remember. She had nightmares since childhood about being abducted by aliens, horrific reptilian flying creatures. About being turned into an alien herself.

And her therapist had talked about archetypes, about the problems of living as a woman of color in white, male Washington, DC, her fears of dehumanization when she was constantly interrupted, mansplained, insulted, belittled, threatened. The doctor had explained to Miranda about the patriarchal roots of xenophobia, where anyone who was not a white man (also cis, straight, yadda yadda) was not considered human enough, and therefore not worthy of power. In fact, her therapist had argued, Superman as a good alien should give her hope. If he could be accepted by the DC power structure, so could she. But Superman was basically a white male, so Crane had fired her therapist and gotten on with her anxiety-filled life. 

Until the day that she had been abducted by an alien, a flying reptilian monster that had also then impersonated her, functionally turning her into an alien. The worst had happened, her worst nightmare. And then an alien had saved her, a female alien, along with a man of color. They had worked together to save her, risking their own lives, even though all her work had always made their jobs harder.

And for the first time in her life, she had let it go.

But then the alien had turned evil. And then the man she had trusted had turned out to be an alien: a flying reptilian alien.

So yes, Senator Miranda Crane felt betrayed.

Fool me once, shame on me, she thought, dispatching the interrogators to take over the DEO and go over it with lie detectors, a fine-tooth comb, and hell, thumbscrews if it came to that. She would not be fooled again.


	4. In a Dark Place

Supergirl went about her rounds, but nobody seemed happy to see her. She stopped a car-jacking, pulling the armed man out through the passenger window, while the driver, a woman, jumped out the drivers side and ran away, screaming. She thwarted a group of bank robbers, and the tellers fled on foot. She landed at a crime scene, where the NCPD's new Science Division was collecting evidence of an alien that sprayed black ichor over everything.

"Can I help, Detective?"

The short, dark-haired woman gave her a wary look. "I think we're all set here, Supergirl. Thanks for the offer, but, um, we got this covered."

At least she hadn't run.

Frustrated, Supergirl took to the sky, far above where people could see her and be alarmed. From up here, she had to squint to see the people on the ground, squint to see the people inside the buildings. About the only thing she could see clearly were the massive signs on the top of the skyscrapers, with the names of the buildings: CatCo World Wide Media, National City General Hospital, National City Royal Hotel--

She felt herself falling and barely caught herself as she landed on her feet on the hospital's helipad. She was dizzy, nauseous, disoriented. A MedEvac helicopter was heading in to land, she took off again, but didn't dare fly too far, landed on the roof at CatCo and sat staring over the city, wondering if she were simply feeling some leftover effects of the red K. She searched her emotions for resentment, haughtiness, loathing, desperate loneliness, but all she felt was disappointment and frustration. After a few minutes of thinking about it, she changed back into her Kara clothes and went downstairs. If she couldn't do her work as a superhero, at least she could arrange Cat's schedule.


	5. In the Box

Military leaders could be defined by their fears. In the Marines, Vasquez had seen it time and again. The oldest of the generals had still every so often identified Communism or Russia or China as the main threats, while the younger generals muttered imprecations about Muslims, radical Islam, Arabs, towel-heads and the like, depending on how far to the left or right they were on other issues. There were always a few that seemed afraid of Jews, the European Union, drug lords or just terrorists as a whole.

But then toward the end of her service, Vasquez had started to see men like the now-Colonel Harper. He had been a lowly lieutenant back then, new in his commission, but she remembered him. He had once announced that a Marine had nothing to fear on Earth, and by that time she knew enough to know that he was wrong, thinking that he meant a Marine had nothing to fear.

Then there was the fight with the not-exactly-terrorists and the certainly-not-radical-Muslims, the fight with aliens, which most of her team had not survived, which she had not survived unscathed. She still had nightmares about it, those enormous monsters, their skin like the perfect desert camouflage, rising up out of the sand and rocks to roar down upon her team, their razor-sharp claws like a paleolithic beast's. And yes, good old human Earth firepower had taken them down and out, eventually.

But sometimes eventually could take a really long time. And sometimes eventually took extreme casualties. Vasquez remembered the line from Moby Dick, "And only I am left to tell the tale."

And Vasquez had to agree that one the one hand, in comparison to what we might fear on Earth, a Marine had a hell of a lot more to fear from things that came from other planets.

But, she thought, perhaps things that came from other planets might sometimes have a hell of a lot more to fear from things that came from Earth. Things, in this case, like Colonel Harper.

//

Colonel Harper felt betrayed and curious, angry and triumphant. He marched into the box where J'onn J'onzz sat cuffed to his chair, and taunted him, made him repeat his story over and over, waiting for the story to make some sense. The idea that Agent Jeremiah Danvers would befriend the alien he was tasked with taking out made no sense. The idea that Jeremiah Danvers would fight and kill his commanding officer, Hank Henshaw, to protect the alien he was tasked to kill was ridiculous. And the idea that the Martian's disguise as Henshaw helped him prevent many actual alien attacks was preposterous.

Harper rejected the story, said, "Take a few minutes to rethink your story, J'onn J'onzz, or whatever your real name is. When I come back, we're going to start from the beginning, and we'll do this as many times as it takes for you to tell us the truth."

//

Three hours later, Vasquez texted Alex. "They're on the move. Doesn't look good. Corridor 19."

Because although Harper's people had indeed put in all kinds of blockers--auditory, psychic, you name it--they had not actually blocked the visuals. And Vasquez, simply sitting and doing her job at the command center had watched the visuals. And since Harper had gone in four times and asked the same questions and gotten the same answers, Vasquez was very clear on what the story was.

It turns out that when you are stuck in bed all day in a military hospital for a few weeks, you can be motivated to find something, anything to do to distract you from the pain and boredom. Sergeant Major Susan Vasquez, USMC, had learned to read lips.

//

Harper was done. He wanted nothing more than to get rid of this embarrassment and he had just the place to send him. The Marines in camo held the Martian at gunpoint while Harper and Major Lane marched him to the pre-transport containment cells. Agent Danvers came marching down a side corridor, yelling, "Where are you taking him?"

"Agent Danvers, you need to step back!"

Down the hall behind Danvers, one of the DEO agents came running, "Sir," she gasped. "I tried to stop her."

Danvers said, "I've known that man for the last two years. He had never endangered this planet. He's protected it!"

"Two years? He's three hundred years old. Two years is like a coffee break to him."

"He's saved my life more times than I can count. He's the best, most honorable man that I know."

"He's not a man!" scoffed Harper. 

Danvers insisted, "Where are you taking him?"

"Where he belongs. And Danvers, since you have so much to say about him? You're next."

//

Harper and Lane took Henshaw away, leaving Vasquez and Alex behind. Vasquez glanced around and touched Alex's arm, returned to the previous corridor and hooked a left to take a corridor that did not lead directly back to either the command center or the interrogation box. They ended up in the women's barracks, one of the few spaces on the base with no surveillance cameras. Alex asked no questions, simply followed.

Vasquez sat Alex down on one of the benches between their lockers. "What do you want me to do?"

"There's no options left. He's going to question me. I doubt he's going to listen--"

"He won't. I trained you, Alex. You can beat the lie detector. You know that. But that won't help if he refuses to believe you and then it's you and Henshaw on that transport together to God knows where. So we need to think ten steps ahead. How do we get you out of that?"

"We're not there yet."

"But we will be, 95% certainty. So basically what you need to do in the box is make time for me to figure out contingency plans, an escape plan, get you false ID if that's what you need, get you a safehouse--"

Alex stared at her, then closed her eyes and took a deep breath. When she opened her eyes again, she seemed serene and determined. "Okay, then. ID for me and my young son. Bus tickets to the town north of Midvale. A rental car from there. And contact my sister. We're going to need her help."

And Vasquez nodded, watching Alex leave the barracks, head held high. She murmured to herself, "That's my girl."


	6. In Loco Parentis

Some of Dr. Eliza Danvers' experiments could take three days to run, and she frequently stayed at Midvale University in her lab from beginning to end to make sure that nothing went wrong, that no well-meaning grad student accidentally messed with her work. Paranoid? Maybe.

A little bit.

Yes.

But it had happened before and it was less of a problem to simply sleep on the couch in her office for a few nights than to have to red to the experiment from scratch. And anyway, it wasn't as if she had anyone to go home to.

That week, when she finally did get home, she took a shower, threw a frozen pizza into the oven (as she often did when she missed her girls), and turned on the TV news to catch up with the world. She watched the footage of one daughter flying through a massive outdoor TV screen in National City, a green alien fighting her in the air and smashing her to the ground, the other daughter shooting the first with some sort of plasma rifle.

On her plate, her pizza went cold.

"Oh, Alexandra," she sobbed. "How could you?"

But the next footage showed Supergirl alive and helping, but people--the ones she was saving--were running from her. She turned off the TV announcer's doubts about her daughter's trustworthiness. Although she may not have always been a fan of their choices, she would trust both of her daughters to the grave and beyond. She only hoped that, when they needed her, they would both feel that they could trust her.


	7. In the Hot Seat

"You were Director Henshaw's right hand," said Colonel Harper, circling Alex, whose right hand was handcuffed to her chair and whose left was hooked up to a lie detector. "I can't believe he left you in the dark or that you allowed yourself to be kept in the dark."

Alex was relaxed. "Turn it on. Ask your questions. I've got nothing to hide, Colonel."

"We'll see about that."

He and Lucy sat down opposite Alex, Lucy turning on the lie detector.

Then it began and it went on for hours.

"Is your name Alexandra Danvers?" asked Lucy.

"Alex. Yes."

//

Supergirl came within minutes of Vasquez's text, and was a little nonplussed when Vasquez refused to notice her entrance, but then Supergirl realized what close attention the camo-wearing Marine guards were keeping on all of the DEO agents. The heavily armed camo-wearing Marine guards. It occurred to Supergirl that just perhaps the DEO had made a fundamental mistake when they had trained Supergirl only to be faster and stronger and not, well, more sneaky.

She stood behind Vasquez watching the visuals, fighting herself not to try to use her superhearing to get past the blocks they had set up. That way only led to headaches.

But when the Marine who had been pacing back and forth in front of Vasquez's command center station touched his earpiece and marched away, Supergirl took a step closer to Vasquez and whispered, "Vasquez!"

The woman shrugged in response.

"I have to hear what is going on in that room. Can you disable the sound-dampening tech they're running to block me?"

Vasquez looked angry, but Supergirl knew that could simply mean that she was worried or afraid or annoyed or frustrated. Or, just possibly, angry. She waited.

Vasquez said, "I can't disable it. I won't." She took off her earpiece and stood at parade rest. "Colonel Harper and Major Lane have a job to do. Frankly, ma'am, I suggest you let them do it."

She walked away, still looking annoyed. Supergirl stared after her, shocked. She had thought that Vasquez had Alex's back, was Hank's most trusted agent. 

But then she looked back at Vasquez's station. There, in front of her keyboard, was her earpiece. Supergirl fought back a smile.

//

Harper asked, "Did you know that Hank Henshaw was being impersonated by an alien criminal when you were recruited."

"He's not a criminal," said Alex.

"Answer the question, Agent Danvers," said Lucy.

"I did not know that Hank was being impersonated by an alien refugee when I was recruited. The man who recruited me, the man who I believed to be Hank Henshaw, saved my life."

It was hard to describe those times to strangers, and it really wasn't Harper that Alex was talking to, even though she spoke directly to him. No, Alex wanted Lucy to hear her story, know who she was, who Hank was. So she described the dancing and drinking, the arrest, the drunk tank.

She described the black man in the suit who had come to her at the jail, talked about her childhood home, her habit of watching the stars every night, his knowledge of her sister. She described how he had been the first person in a long while who had offered his faith in her, how he had taken her, in a black hood, to the desert base after she had signed up, signed all the NDAs.

"For the next five months, you'll be spending twelve hours a day training."

"Training for what?"

"Anything. Everything. You're going to be fighting attacks from creatures from all over the universe. You need to be ready for whatever happens out there."

"When will I be ready?"

"When you can beat me."

Back in the interrogation box, Agent Danvers said, "Hank Henshaw, or J'onn J'onzz, or whatever you want to call him, gave me a home, a purpose. I served him with honor, and I am proud of it. You're the ones who should be ashamed of yourselves."

Harper smirked. "Well, that's all well and good, but it still doesn't answer the million dollar question: did you know that Hank Henshaw was an alien?"

"No."

Lucy looked at the computer screen. No change. Harper looked at the computer screen. No change.

He said, "Well, congratulations, Agent Danvers. The only thing you're guilty of is being duped by the creature you were meant to be hunting. Which does make you a terrible agent, but lucky for you, not a criminal." He got up and walked to the door.

Alex pulled the cuff and wires off her hand.

Lucy said, "Wait!" Harper stopped at the door. Lucy locked eyes with Alex. "She's lying. He told you he tried to rescue your father. He told you he was protecting you. He made you believe that he was the father you lost. And now you're under arrest."

//

Supergirl threw down the earpiece and went striding toward Corridor 19. She saw them escorting a chained Alex away.

"Hey, what the hell is going on? You can't do this! Where are you taking her?"

"Same place I'm taking your little green friend. Where she belongs," snarled Harper. "Project Cadmus."


	8. In Need, a Friend

James had said that he needed time, and he was sure that Kara had understood. So when he received her text message asking for emergency help, he had set aside his anger and confusion about the whole red kryptonite incident and texted back, "Whatever you need" without even thinking.

When Kara showed up, visibly distressed and a little incoherent, he was glad that he had.

"What happened?"

"It was horrible. They, they just dragged Alex and Hank away."

"Okay, but who are they? Who did this?"

"Lucy."

"Lu, my, Wait. Lucy is back here?"

"Yes, with a Colonel Harper. They're leading the witch hunt. They want to know who knew about Hank. I've never seen her like this."

"Oh, okay, where did they take Alex and Hank?"

"Some place called Project Cadmus? Which I'm guessing isn't an all-inclusive resort."

"No, it's the reason Clark won't work with the government. Okay, so if the DEO's a prison, then Cadmus is a dissection lab. It's a genetic engineering facility that treats aliens like labrats. Amputated, skinned, drained, injected with experimental drugs..."

Kara looked as appalled as James felt. "Why would they do that?"

"Weaponizing alien abilities for military purposes."

"What do they do to humans?"

James shook his head.

"Does Clark know where it is?"

"No. No one does."

Kara frowned, thought, finally nodded grimly. "I know what I have to do. But I'm going to need your help."

//

Major Lucy Lane had spent the day doing her job, doing her duty, doing what other people wouldn't have wanted to do, been able to do. That didn't mean she had to like it.

She didn't hate Hank--J'onn J'onzz, but she did hate what he stood for: aliens with agendas of their own hoodwinking humans. She didn't hate Alex Danvers either; if anything she respected her, in a way. She just believed that she was wrong to be so duped by an alien that she would stand up for him, lie for him, put her bodily safety at risk for him.

And James? Between James's affection for Superman, Supergirl, and, of all people, Kara Danvers, Lucy was just done with him. Done. She loved him too much but she had to love herself more, because no one else would.

But when James texted her that he had to see her, and when the address he gave her was Kara Danvers' loft, she almost said no.

Almost.

But some kind of technical SNAFU at the DEO meant a two-hour delay for their convoy, so she had time. And so she said yes, and she went, knowing down to her bone marrow that she would live to regret it.

Seeing James in Kara's loft was hard. Seeing Kara pull her shirt open to show the Superman S was harder. 

She exhaled. "You know, it all makes sense now. I just didn't want to put it together."

"I'm sorry you had to find out this way," said Kara. "But you are the only person who can stop Hank and Alex from being sent to Project Cadmus."

"Why would I help you? You and Hank? Why do you all lie?"

Kara looked sad and thoughtful. Finally, she said, "When you are an alien and you've lost your world, and you're dropped into a new one? You don't have a choice."

And the story she told about starting junior high school with a rudimentary understanding of English and wildly oversensitive hearing and sight, with a sister who tried, but mostly couldn't understand why you were so strange, and whose friends absolutely couldn't and didn't show any signs of wanting to understand--

Lucy couldn't help remembering growing up as an Army brat, with a big sister who only wanted to get on with her life, her newest social circle, couldn't be bothered to help her little sister. Maybe she couldn't relate to not recognizing creatures such as birds, but she had certainly been told by Lois in no uncertain terms not to make her look bad. And although Lucy had never run off to save a woman and her baby from a car wreck, gaining even more negative attention, she had done a few things that had brought down the ire not only of her big sister but also of her father. There had been that girl she liked, before she found out that only liking boys was acceptable for an army officer's daughter...

Kara buttoned up her shirt, her hands shaking. "When you are an alien, you are willing to sacrifice anything, everything, to fit in."

Lucy crossed her arms over her chest. "If you have a problem fitting it, it's because you lie to people about who you really are."

James said, "Lucy, are you really willing to let Hank become a science experiment? And who knows what they have planned for Alex?"

Kara said, "I know you're feeling betrayed, but if you go along with Jim Harper just to feel like you fit in, ultimately, the only person you're betraying is yourself. It wasn't easy for me to show you who I really am, but I did it because I trust who you are, who you really are under that uniform. And I trust you'll do the right thing."


	9. In Retrospect

Winn saw Kara and James hurry off, but he didn't ask where they were going. If they had wanted him to know, they would have told him. Clearly, they didn't want him to know. 

He checked the job websites where he had uploaded his resume, both the general ones like monster.com and some of the less... standard ones, including one that was somewhere between the Internet and the dark net. His criteria for a job had pinged an intriguing job post, that claimed to be for a governmental organization, looking for a cybersecurity professional, an out-of-the-box thinker, someone willing to work nights and weekends to protect the country and the planet from extraterrestrial menaces. It seemed farfetched. He almost ignored it.

Almost. 

Then, instead, he hacked it, traced the post back to an IP address that led him on a merry chase all over the world, only to end up in a zero-population town in Nevada. And before he decided to send out his resume, he had two thoughts. Either this was actually a governmental organization he was applying to or, possibly, it was a bunch of high-level hackers, and if he could make a connection with them, then perhaps he could convince a real governmental organization to give him a job based on his work connecting with the hackers.

He hit send.


	10. In Chains

Hank ground his teeth. His arms and legs were chained one one side of the transport truck. Alex, on the other side, was the same. At the back, wearing camos and a belt holster, Colonel James Harper taunted them.

"When we get to Cadmus," he said, "I'm going to find out how you overcome people's minds. How you steal their bodies. You know, what makes you tick."

"You're going to dissect me," said Hank.

Harper scoffed. "Cadmus is not some Area 51 house of horrors, Martian. It's a necessary place, a place where we can unlock secrets to save American lives, human lives.

Alex snapped, "So you're not going to dissect him."

"I'm protecting the world."

"You're pathetic."

"And you're a traitor. So get comfortable, Agent Danvers, because you belong to Cadmus now."

Hank met Alex's eyes. They both heard one or maybe two small motors outside the truck. Hank's eyes slid to the psychic disruptor in Harper's hand. The truck swerved, sending the unchained Harper into a side wall and making him drop the disruptor to the floor of the truck. They heard machine gun fire. The truck swerved one way and Alex tried to grab the disruptor with her foot, but then the truck swerved in the opposite direction, but then it rose on a gradient, sending the disruptor back toward Alex, who smashed it with her foot. Hank tore himself loose of his cuffs and chains. Harper looked terrified. The truck screeched to a halt.

Hank strong-armed Harper up against the wall of the truck, pulled out his sidearm and gave it to Alex. Hank took Harper's head and neck in his hands, his eyes wide, his nostrils flaring.

"Do it, do it! Be a monster," yelled Harper. "Prove me right!"

Alex pulled at Hank's shoulder. "Hank..."

"It's all right," said Hank, relatively calmly. "I've gotten better at this." He turned back to Harper, his eyes glowing red. "I'm not going to kill you, Colonel. I'm just going to make you forget what you saw here tonight."

But the images racing through Hank's mind as he wiped them out of Harper's took on different levels of recentness and distinctness, and the last made Hank drop Harper to the floor and pull away gasping.

Alex reached for him, "J'onn! Are you okay?"

J'onn struggled to focus his eyes on her. He said, "I into Harper's mind. I saw him."

"Who?"

"Jeremiah. I saw him. At Project Cadmus. Alex, he's alive. Your dad's alive."

Alex shook her head in disbelief.


	11. In on It

J'onn shifted the DEO soldiers from the prisoner transport to the DEO's SUV that had supported Lucy and Kara's op, driven by a helmet-obscured Agent Vasquez. They shared no words. J'onn went back to where Alex was explaining things to her sister.

"For him to still be around after all this time?" said Kara, in her motorcycle gear.

"I'm going to get him back," said Alex.

"We're going to get him back," repeated Hank.

"I'm coming with you," said Kara.

"I'm a fugitive now," said Alex. "I'm on the run."

"Let me take you to the Fortress of Solitude, where you'll be safe! Let me find Jeremiah!"

"Kara," said Alex. "I have to do this. Hey, have faith in me. Like I have in you."

"What am I going to do without you?" asked Kara.

"You don't need me. You never have."

"Yeah, well, you still took care if me anyway."

"And look how great you turned out! I love you."

Kara pulled her into a hug. "I love you too."

Hank took Lucy's motorcycle helmet, saying, "Don't worry, she'll be okay."

"I know. She has you. We both have you."

Alex put on Kara's helmet, took her motorcycle. The two fugitives took off. Lucy and Kara got into the DEO SUV.

Vasquez explained about surveillance camera time signatures and the faked mayday that Vasquez had responded to, just barely rescuing them from the fugitives. She drove them back to the base, letting them settle into their cover stories, for which Alex was grateful.

When they returned, they had to strip out of their combat gear, return their weapons to the armory and write mission summaries, to be typed up and signed the following day. As they marched together back toward the command center, Supergirl murmured, "You think they know it was us?"

"We'll see," said Lucy.

"Ten Hut!" shouted an over-zealous soldier, and the DEO agents stood to attention.

Major Lane said, "At ease."

Agent Vasquez recovered first. "Ma'am, we've had a bit of--"

"A security breach. I know. What are we doing to reapprehend the detainees?"

"Ma'am?"

"What are Colonel Harper's orders?"

"Uh, ma'am, Colonel Harper just resigned and named the new acting director of the DEO."

"Who?"

"You."

Lucy looked pole-axed, looked at Supergirl, who was trying hard to hide a grin. "Are you sure?"

"Yes," said Vasquez. "He was quite adamant about your appointment." With a small twinkle in her eye, Vasquez returned to her station.

Supergirl murmured to Lucy, "Well, I guess Hank got control of that whole mind control thing."

Lucy turned toward her, looking the slightest bit panicky. "You're going to help me do this, aren't you?"

"Yeah, of course. And Vasquez will too. But you're going to be great. This is where you belong."

Vasquez said, "There's a bank robbery at Tenth and Shukert. No alien involvement, but I just thought that you might want to know."

"And you belong out there," said Lucy.

Supergirl hesitated. "After what I did, the people don't trust me anymore."

"You got me to trust you," said Lucy. "That's a start."

And Kara strode off.

Lucy stepped up to where Vasquez was standing. "Agent, I know that I'm Army and you are a Marine, but I hope that we can find a way to work together, a way that combines defending this country and being always faithful."

"I see nothing in those two things that aren't inherently overlapping categories, Major."

"But how do we include, well, her?" asked Major Lane.

"Nothing easier," said Vasquez. "El Mayarah. Stronger together."


End file.
